


Ether

by toujourspret (beaubete)



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Genderfuck, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 18:05:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19025152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaubete/pseuds/toujourspret
Summary: Through the haze of liquor and lust, things aren't always as they seem in this temple of sin.  Written for the cgkinkmeme.  Genderfuck.Originally posted to fanfiction.net; presented here with no changes.





	Ether

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers. See the note at the end for an explanation of the character dynamics.

He sees them the moment the doors part, curtain lifting from the proscenium that frames this stage dedicated to debauchery. They're lovely, elegant. He shifts, lips quirking as the girl at the door takes his coat. There is a moment when he finds himself entranced by the length of her eyelashes, tipped demurely downward to fan against her cheek, before a throaty laugh grabs him and he's caught by the sirens again. The dark one, pale skin glowing with mischief, is the laugher, arresting violet eyes flicking playfully at his face as she leans to speak to her friend from the corner of her mouth. His coat is forgotten. He hears his pocket watch fall from the heavy fabric; the slinky hiss of chain and heavy thunk of it clattering against the floor is ignorable against the quirk of the girls' lips. Like twins, they laugh in unison.

It's not a matter of money. This isn't that kind of place, where cash crosses crudely from palm to palm; in a flow like water he finds himself against the bar, eyes scorching hot as he watches them. They've got no eyes for anyone but each other, until carmine curls and he's pinned by them both, thick and sultry eyes fluttering in his direction, leaving him parched and licking cracking lips. With a wave of his hand, he orders a drink and then another, sending them over. It's sweet torture to watch the way they toy with the glasses; his breath escapes him in a wispy moan as he watches the dark one feed her friend the crimson liquid, pouring relentlessly until it runs in rivulets from the corner of her lips down the length of her throat to stain dark the collar of her camisole. She closes her lips around the wine and her eyes drop closed. The smile she grants him then is shattering.

"I want them." The words taste silky on his tongue, salted caramel thick and sweet, before he's even aware he's thought the idea. Surprised by his own desire, he repeats it: "I want them. I want them both." The bartender laughs. He's seen this before, the wide eyes and wishing. These girls are going to wreck this boy.

It's a crook of an elegant finger and he's tripping up the stairs behind them; he trips over a step in his eagerness. The lighter one laughs dusky sweet and he follows the sound blindly. Fingers curl in the lapels of his vest, hauling him into a room. The dark girl hisses, sucking burned fingertips as the lamp shudders to life between them. Her eyes dance. She smiles at him, then turns to pull her friend into an embrace. There is a glimmer of pink tongue between them; their faces are so close he can't tell whose it is.

"Beautiful," he breathes reverently. He expects them to laugh at him again, at least the dark one. He expects her low, mocking laugh, even if her earnest friend is silent, and so he's unprepared for the heat that filters into their faces, empty basins filling slowly with the same barren want that has been sitting in his stomach since he first spied them. It's the light one, the one with kinder eyes, that wraps an arm around his neck and tugs him into a kiss.

Her lipstick is waxy and slick against his mouth. Hands skitter around his waist to tug at the front of his vest and he frowns, pulling away. "Wait," he says, and she laughs again, a little meanly. Her hands pull at his buttons and he steps away again, coming up hard against the other. She nuzzles his throat and he spins, pulling away from them both, twining their hands together, trying not to look as desperate as he feels. "Wait?" he says again, a question.

"Why." The word is sly. He can hear the smirk on her face when she speaks.

"What are your names?" he asks, trying to divert them. "What can I call you?"

"More," the darker one tells him, slinking around his left. He is pinned between them as the lighter one mirrors the move on the right.

"Please," she instructs him, smile more playful than that of her friend. "Call me that; say 'Please' and I'll know you mean me."

"Say 'More' and I'll know you mean me," the darker one purrs. "Say 'More' now."

"More," he gasps obediently as a mouth seals over his lower lip. "Please, more."

There is a flash of brown curls against his shoulder and a puff of warm laughter against his neck. "Yes, sir." A hand presses between his thighs, blunt and bold, and he winces. "Oh?" Her voice is curious. He nudges her away, cheeks pinking, and stands away, embarrassed. She curls into her friend's curious look and he turns to take in the room's darkly elegant surroundings, jaw clenched against tears. He'll remember nothing in this room but the dark shapes of girls, but he'll remember it as the worst in his life.

"Sorry for wasting your time, then," he bites out before they can giggle at him again, shrugging his rumpled clothes back into place. As he turns to the enormous mirror that rests on the top of their vanity, as he picks at the cosmetics piled around the glass shining darkly in the low light, as he adjusts the seams and tweaks the buttons with devastating precision, he catches their eyes solemn, languid and liquid in the mirror. In the reflection, two lovely nymphs surround him, plucking at his vest to remove it, toying with his hair where it falls loose from its band. Slender white fingers curl the red strands around them as shorter, thicker, but no less lovely fingers tangle with his own to pull his hand toward her body. He blinks, confused. She laughs.

"What you lack, we more than make up for," she says simply.

He tilts his head to look at them both in the mirror. "We?"

The darker girl presses against him, hard and hot. "We," she confirms, cupping a breast as his bindings fall free. His moan as she rolls a nipple between her fingers make her laugh again. He covers her mouth with his own, cutting off her own groan as he slips his hand between her legs and gropes her out, fingers seeking and finding the hot curve of an erection tucked hidden in the satin of her tiny shorts. Her pupils are blown as he tips her back against the bed, cocky grin gone as she twists into his hand and spreads her thighs brazenly wide.

Her friend laughs, then, delighted. "He's got you by a short leash now, Lulu," she says, voice low and amused.

"Five and a half inches, I'd say," he teases, lips twitching at her disgruntled look.

"At least give me six," she pouts, curling her ankle over his shoulder, tugging him face-first into her belly.

He chuckles, propping himself up and spanning her length with his hand. "Oh, yes. Six. I see it now," he breathes, walking his fingers up the length to pause on the head. He tips his head to acknowledge her friend's wide grin. "What about you? What do you make of dear Lulu's," he pauses, tasting the name with relish, " _attributes_?"

He hears her before she settles behind him, draping herself languidly across his shoulders to trail a teasing caress up the length of the bulge beneath his fingers. "Six is a little generous," she murmurs, and he can feel her laughter thrumming against his back. Lulu's eyes slit open, halfheartedly glaring at her.

"Whatever,  _Suzie_ ," she snaps, back arching and lashes fluttering as he strokes her.

"Suzie?" he asks, turning to her, and the brunette flushes.

"Suzaku," she corrects, and he finds her bashfulness charming.

"And you, sir?" Blinking, he turns to see Lulu leaning up on her forearms. "Who are you?"

"Say 'Harder' and I'll know you mean me," he says with a smirk, and she blushes, biting her lip against a laugh. "Kallen," he tells her, and he watches her smile grow.

" ' _Harder'_ ," she whimpers teasingly, arching her back prettily.

"Oh?" He quirks an eyebrow, responding with a sly grin. "' _More'_ ,  _'Please'_!"

"Since you asked so nicely," Suzaku murmurs, dipping her hand into the waistband of his pants, fingers searching blindly through the cotton packing to find him slick and ready. She gives a breathy sigh. "Nice."

Kallen moans, reaching down to tug at his fly, fingertips brushing against Suzaku's wrist as she strokes him. Before him, Lulu lays spread and wanton, nipples raised above the filmy satin of her teddy, rucked where she has shoved it down to toy with one stiffened nub idly. Her stomach is taut and bare, thin and pale and wiry, disappearing into satin shorts stretched thin over the peaked arch of her erection. He bends over, mouthing her through the fabric and she keens, clutching at his hair. She whines, legs falling open around him, and reaches up to pull Suzaku into a slow, wet kiss. Kallen tips his face up, grinding his chin into her arousal to watch. When they break apart, Lulu is flushed and panting.

"Fuck me," she pleads, twining her fingers in Kallen's hair to pull him up for a kiss. He imagines he can taste Suzaku on her, and he thrusts hard against her, driving against her receptive form.

"I want to," he groans, fingers fumbling frustrated to rub against her hole beneath the lace edge of her shorts. "Oh, god, I want to."

"Then do it," Suzaku tells him, biting a stinging trail along the edge of his shoulder. "She's good. So tight and sweet; I know you want to fuck her."

"I don't have a cock," Kallen reminds her sharply, pressing her hand firmly against his wet cunt, the firm bump of his clit rolling in the center of her palm. "Does that feel like a cock to you?"

Suzaku laughs breathlessly, leaning back before pressing something warm in his hand. "The miracle of plastic," she says, guiding him through straps and cinching them until, at last, his cock lies heavy and hard between his thighs. "It suits you," she tells him, coating his cock with something thick, viscous, and sweet-smelling.

He bites his lip, smiling crookedly. "Thank you." She smiles beatifically, wrapping a hand around him to guide him toward Lulu, in the process of shimmying out of her shorts. Her cock is beautiful, waving pink-red against the white of her belly. She tilts her hip, lifts her leg to show herself off, and he presses an obliging kiss to her knee as he curls her leg over his shoulder and presses in. Her cry as the phallus enters her is echoed against the back of his neck. He feels Suzaku shiver with longing against his back. Her erection smears wetness across his back as she grinds against him.

"Please," she whispers, lips gasping a wet kiss against his skin. "Please, oh please." Kallen feels her poised against his entrance and shudders hard. This isn't what he came here for, what he bound his breasts and stuffed his pants for, what he became he instead of she tonight for, but still-he shivers again, and somewhere inside him, she shivers, too-it's what he wants. What she wants.

"Yes," he chokes out, spreading his legs, feeling his wetness chill against his thighs. "Yes, Suzaku, yes."

She buries herself in one smooth thrust, and beneath him, Lulu moans eagerly. He groans, tucking his face in the creamy skin of her throat, listening as she pants into the pillow. "More, Kallen, move," she pleads, and he chuckles.

"You vain thing," he says, and Suzaku laughs against his neck. He rolls his hips and the girls both react, Lulu whining as Suzaku stutters a guttural grunt into the nape of his neck. He slaps Lulu's ass with an open palm and she goes tense, a frown forming between her brows. He repeats the move and she rockets into his thrusts, fingers curling to claw his neck and shoulders. "Oh?" he coos tauntingly. "You like that?" His next slap is stronger, and it leaves a stinging pink handprint on her skin. She squints into the pleasure, lips falling open in a nearly-silent 'oh!' and legs trembling.

Suzaku's thrusts are jolting, sending him juddering against Lulu with a cry. When her fingers dip between his thighs to strum against his clit, he whimpers, ducking his head to suck at Lulu's lips and jaw and neck. Friction burns between them, sticky where the oil is drying and raw in places where there was none, in the tangled brush of pubic hair against delicate skin and the scrape of lace that normally seems so soft. He spreads his thighs a little more, shifts the angle until it is the rough shuddering of the girl behind him driving him deep inside the girl before, until his clit is a pebble being tossed in the seas of their sex, polished down between their bodies to become a single focal point of pleasure that melts in an ecstatic tightening of muscles, an addicting clench that draws Suzaku with her even as they fumble for Lulu's cock and, with stroking hands and sex-clumsy fingers, they drag her along with them, blinded by the rush and crash of sensation until they are all three sweaty, sated, piled like puppies in the center of the dampened bed with limbs limp and eyes amorous and heavy-lidded.

"That was fantastic," Kallen says. Suzaku makes a noise of agreement.

"Thank you; I thought so, too," Lulu says, her voice hoarse with pleasure. The other two just laugh until, eventually, she joins in.

**Author's Note:**

> This story features trans male Kallen and trans female Suzaku and Lelouch. Kallen is masc socially but female, body-wise, and Suzaku and Lelouch are femme socially and male, body-wise.


End file.
